As a victim of child abuse I have always been terrified that I would wake up one day and realize the man I was sleeping with would end up being a pedophile.
When it comes to relations with men I have had many but I have really only had one boyfriend. Had I known his last name resembled a fungus I assure you I would have ended things at the start. As it was he refused to tell me his last name for months for that very reason.
When I look back I see the cycle of abuse that took place, I see why everyone was so worried. At the time it didn’t seem so bad. Today many people ask me why I didn’t just leave, the answer is very complicated.
I met him when my friend and I took her son to the hospital. He was very honest from the get go about his addiction, but again, at the time I was very naive, and I didn’t really know much about addiction or the harm it can cause.
He was so kind to my friends sons while we were there that one day I decided to call him and thank him for making the trip to the ER far less hassle then it needed to be, nothing will ever make me regret that phone call more then I do at this moment.
When we got together everything was perfect, he was a total gentlemen. We would go for these long moon lit walks in the rain and the snow, he made an extra special effort with my friends and family but he disliked any guy that came near me, I thought it was sweet that he was jealous, I didn’t realize that it was a major warning sign.
As the weeks and months wore on, he eventually needed a place to stay. Stupid me, first boyfriend and all I let him move in, it wasn’t a plan it just sort of worked out that way, he spent the night and just…didn’t leave.
One night I learned he liked to “wrestle” I also learned he liked to bite, hard. Not in the fun sexual way lovers sometimes do, but in the leave marks and claim you way. I told him right away it wasn’t okay but it continued….he was gentler but the biting continued.
At one point I realized that sex had turned less into making love and more into rape – I don’t know how or when, but every chance he got it became more forceful, rougher, bruises and marks were left. I faked nearly every orgasm just to get him to stop – I became so good at faking it that sometimes I believed I enjoyed it.
Every once in awhile no matter where I live I manage to find myself a secret spot. A place I can go to be alone, and think, because I lived in an apartment this special place became the roof top. I didn’t notice one night that he had followed me up there.
He came up behind me in and nibbled on my neck, I thought it was romantic, it ended with him pushing me back over the ledge of the roof, holding me only by my hands, “What would you do if I let go” he asked.
He pulled me back in, and kissed me, promised he was kidding…I should have known then but I didn’t, I didn’t see. I was so doped up on pills and booze that he would shove down my throat, or put into my food, I didn’t notice I didn’t care. I was already broken.
Anything he wanted he got, anything he needed I provided. I did his laundry, bought his clothes, I bought his food and every check I got paid he’d “borrow” to pay off dealers who would hurt or kill him or worse.
One night after a rather painful sexual encounter with him I made him stop, it hurt too much. I went to the bathroom and realized I was bleeding, this was not period blood this was miscarriage, I didn’t even know I was pregnant.
I went back to bed and tried to wake him i tried to tell him, he smiled at me and held me down and covered my mouth and went back to sleep…he wouldn’t let me call my mom for help or tell anyone.
Something died in me that night and it was more then my son. Shortly after things got worse between us, the fighting the yelling, the hitting and shoving. When friends would see the bruises and ask about them he would laugh it off, “She likes rough sex” he would say.
I would beg them to leave it alone. I know that they meant well but it caused so much more harm then good when they interfered. I just wanted peace, I was so sick, I was dope sick while being sick from being sick, I was tired all the time I had just lost my son, and this man was a demon that I couldn’t escape from. That I didn’t even try to escape from. I couldn’t be bothered, I didn’t want to be alone and at the same time I was too scared to leave.
When Christmas came we had plans, he was supposed to come over for dinner, he didn’t. Later he called to tell me he was in jail over Christmas, I called his mother, but guess what? He had spent it with his family.
I remember one day during that holiday when I was supposed to meet his mother, she was picking him up, for whatever reason I guess he did not want me to meet her, he pulled me down the stairs so hard I slipped on the ice and fractured my foot. It still hasn’t healed right.
The list of bruises accidents and sprains, fractures and unexplained blood clots I received from that man is forever long. I have spent years trying to overcome the damage he caused. I thought I had.
I thought that the day he laughed about forcing me to miscarry our son, refusing to get me help was the worst he could do to me.
Until I was told two nights ago he is now being charged with sexual interference of two under age girls.
Yeah you read that right. My ex-boyfriend is now being charged as a pedophile. I didn’t believe it at first, until the person who told me mentioned the biting…then I knew.
At first I was shocked, but as I walked my dog that evening I was sick, I literally threw up by the side of the road. Then I got drunk, and now I am just…not really all that surprised.
I mean should I be? Should I be surprised that the man who was so willing to end the life of his unborn son, beat his girlfriend, hold her over a roof, push her around would do whatever it takes to make himself happy? No.
Someone asked me recently if you had known then would you have sat back and done anything? Would you have ignored it? Sick as I was probably yes. Sick as I was, I probably would have hidden in a corner and waited for it all to go away, like a bad nightmare.
I may be more confident now but even still I am shaken, to my very core. I look back and I see the darkness he had due to his addiction, but the evil that people are talking about now? The guy who held down a 14 year old girl and bit her all over and raped her? I don’t know if he existed when I was with him, apparently he does now, but I don’t know about then….I can’t help but wonder…what if I had had a son with that man?
Would that evil be genetic? Would he have hurt our son the way he hurt me? So many questions, so few answers. So much utter disgust and pain is left in his wake.
I find that over the last four days I am unable to do anything of the things I had planned, I haven’t started the book or the Radio Free Voice updates, I haven’t worked on my trip that I say I so badly want to take. I am shaken by this news.
Many people say I should just get over it, thank my lucky stars and move on. I am trying but almost hourly more scars rip open to remind me of the shell he turned me into, and I can’t quite seem to close them up again. No matter how tightly I pull the needle to shut said scars, I feel like they just refuse to close.
He would like that I know, he would like to know he still can cause me pain, he can still make me suffer…..after all I am his first real victim. I am the one that gave him that first taste of power and blood….you never forget your first.